Queen Of Diamonds- Part 2

The embers of the fire refused to die down. As he stood poring into the twilight that was slowly waking up the city, Vijayarenga shook his head, tired of the night. The nights always belong to the wicked. They never sleep, keep pondering and plotting. Plotting, yes, that he had done once. He had sat the whole night trying to dissuade his defenses when he had planned that fateful event. How he wished he hadn't done it? He had blood in his hands, which never let him sleep the nights thereafter. Night after night, he only wished he could sleep, oblivious to the calls of the owls. How he wished...

Maran saw Vijayarenga perplexed and tense, as always. His brow creased and temper hiked, he looked almost at the edge of blowing up. This is where I should step in, he thought to himself and taking few deep breaths, stood before him. "No sleep, I see...", he said and curtsied, nodding his disapproval. Vijayarenga still stood unperturbed. "Dear King, I see your nights growing heavier and thoughtful. But we have work to do. So shall we?", he turned his heel and walked with vigour towards the thrones. Vijayarenga followed Maran. He knew Maran could be at times very persuasive and he was indeed not ready for a full blown argument today. 

"They are doing it again", Maran wrung his hands for the hundredth time as a stoic Vijayarenga watched. How much ever the troops were disciplined, there always was a loose end, someone who would rise up in a revolt. "This gets us nowhere,Vijaya. Queen Mother was in fact a helpful ally and in chucking her out, you did a grave mistake!", Maran's temper was flaring. Two infidel soldiers had slit the throat of a temple priest bang under his nose, right at Meenakshi Amman temple and he had been rendered useless, watching the limp body of the priest being shuttled out hastily in a banana leaf pack. The motive- as always was money. "We can't let this happen, Mara. Have they been caught?", Vijayarenga was gritting his teeth now. "No, I have sent Rangayya running and I think he will nab them soon. There have been witnesses this time", Maran hastily replied.

"Witnesses? Well, this is definitely a first. Who and where are the witnesses now? Why haven't they been summoned earlier?", an array of questions were shot at Maran who turned to the soldiers and nodded his approval. Vijayarenga stood up, went to the window sill and looked up at the city that was by now bustling beneath. He liked it here, undisturbed and left to his own world. A world where a certain damsel with kohl laden eyes has been wreaking havoc the last two days. He always liked his summer palace, with its fruit trees and koels cooing. The sound of tinkling anklets were no distraction to his particular thought of holding a slender waist and playing with a unruly strand of hair. 

The sound of Maran thundering "Tell the King your name", must have irked the witnesses. There was a heavy silence and then somewhere, a koel cooed. "Dear King...may I have your attention?", this was definitley not koel. Maran's voice was as distinct as his razor sharp sword. Slowly turning, Vijayarenga chanced upon the koel, his koel. She stood pensive, her eye lashes batting continuously, her lips trembling and her posture extremely defiant. It was her! The koel of his dreams. Her thin reed of a friend stood closeby, both the girls looking distraught and troubled. Since when was she held by the goons. He glared at Maran and turned his attention to the koel. Had Maran taken his cue right at the temple a couple of days ago? Was this some game he is playing to bring the girl to me? A hundred questions were ravaging his mind as he glanced at her and croaked out his first question- " What is your name, koel?"

Quite taken aback and her temper unleashed, Meenakshi showed enough scorn to scorch the sun and bit out, "Meenakshi, not koel". A throaty laughter emanated from him.Well, feisty. He liked it. "Were they given anything to eat and drink?", he put across the question to Maran, who raised his eyebrows in apparent exasperation. " Of course. Everyone who enters the palace is fed. We have a murder to be investigated, Vijayarenga. Do you think this is the time for your niceties?", he almost gritted out and Vijayarenga could sense his anger. Alright, he sulked. Maran can be a toughie. 

"Where were you when the murder happened?", he masked his face with animosity and queried. "At the Chithirai Veedhi, O King", replied koel's friend. Why is she answering when I question my koel, he frowns and turns his attention to koel. "Now will you tell me what were you two doing in the night of Chithirai Thiruvizha, roaming the streets so brazenly?", his voice now had genuine anger. Two young girls let loose roaming the streets late in the night and who knows what might befall them in these dark days? This was when Mangai laughed. A full no holds barred laughter and her eyes were twinkling with mischief. "She was drunk!", accused Meenakshi still raging at her friend. "I was trying to take the idiot home". Taken aback, Vijayarenga now pondered how to turn this to his advantage. "Well. a drunk witness is of no use to me. Send her back". As Mangai left still hiccuping and laughing, Meenakshi stood fuming. 

"Now tell me Meenakshi. What did you see yesterday? How many of them were there?", his voice was now cool and his eyes, almost devouring her. "Only two of them and they were of course our own soldiers, in full attire", she clipped. "Anything else you noticed of them?", Maran interjected. "Yes, I could see one of them sported the turban of Ramnad army and had a valari", she went on. Ramnad? Well, that about gives a clue. That is why Rangayya was summoned by Maran. He was in charge of Ramnad border, wasn't he? " We have to take a rain check on absconding soldiers at the borders again", he told Maran. "That has already been ordered", he replied. He was about to dismiss her when the last question shot out of his mouth. "Whose daughter are you?" "Does that matter?", pat came the reply. "Well, you may go now", ordered Maran his eyes fixed on Vijayarenga's face. 

As her retreating form faded from his eyes, he turned to Maran. " Should you always be so overbearing?", he spat out. " Or else you would have made yourself a complete fool before her", smiled Maran. "You know her?", a cool calculating smile was slowly forming in his lips. "The King wouldn't know the daughter of a Courtier. But I definitely know her. Daughter of Manikkam, your stable chief", his smile was now warm. At last, someone has held the attention of the King for more than two days in a row and that was a record. Vijayarenga always had roving eyes and this time over, his eyes were fixated on Meenakshi and he knew it! The King was jinxed. Time to get hitched, Vijayarenga, he mused to himself as he left the palace gates.

To be continued...

Pulicat- a lagoon, monuments and the Dutch connection

Published in One India One people magazine, April 2017

Quaint backdrop of the sea, waters of a brackish lake lapping at your feet, the town of  Pulicat fondly called pazhaverkadu in Tamil entices you with its large lake and its unparallel history. Dotted with few century old mosques, temples of 11^th and 13^th century, churches dating back to 1700s, the picture postcard perfect town is a must go, if one appreciates nature and has an eye for the heritage it offers.

“Why don’t we go on an impulsive trip? You will enjoy it..”, queried one of our Heritage group members and senior Venkatesh and I nodded my head without batting my eyelashes. A heritage trip on a peaceful Saturday, with like-minded enthusiasts- what more can one ask for? The plan was to meet at Parrys Corner, the most prominent landmark of North Chennai and I was there well before time. I gaze lazily at the pillar before the famed parrys building- the Dare House that marked the boundary of the fortification the British made to protect the Esplanade from the French. The date of the masonry obelisk pillar reads “Boundary of the esplanade- January 1, 1773”. 

As promised, one of our group members had come in early to show me the plaque erected in memory of the bombing of Madras by the ship SMS Emden on September 22, 1914. Though war clouds had threatened Madras so often during both the World Wars, it was this German light cruiser that actually managed to bomb the city, injuring a shepherd, killing a goat and injuring two others. The plaque can now be found on the compound walls of Madras High Court, near its Beach road entrance. 

Taking pictures of it, we then dig into idlis and sambar of the famed Murugan Idli Shop at Armenian Street with gusto. “No food on the way till we reach Siruvapuri for lunch, an army marches on its stomach said Napolean”, Venkatesh announces and chuckles, as we gulp down everything we could. Our journey commences in two cars and we drive past the seven wells- Chennai’s first regulated water supply system executed in 1772. A military residential complex stands at its place now as we whizz past and slow down at Ebrahim Street, Royapuram. Tucked away along the roadside is a small park that has rickety gates and a flight of stairs. As we climb unassumingly over centuries of neglect, we are told this is the only remaining part of the North Wall of Madras, completed in 1772 by Paul Benfield. The wall ran for six kilometers and had 17 bastions in its full glory, touted to protect the city from the French and Hyder Ali. Plans of further expansion were shelved after demise of Hyder Ali and Tippu Sultan. Remnants of the wall remain even today, about 60 feet long, which is now called the “maadi poonga” or the terrace park. Clicking few pictures of the same, we continue our journey up North.

Our next stop is the Puzhal lake- a reservoir that collects water from the Kortalayar river. Built in 1876, this water reservoir now stores water from Krishna and Telugu Ganga for the usage of Chennai city. We drive further north and reach the Shiva temple run by Chinmaya Mission at Nallur village. The temple itself is built in a distinct structure of a giant lingam towering about 50 feet high. The acoustics at the temple mesmerizes one. The priest’s Om reverberates in the entire structure, giving us a divine feeling. Though of no historical value, this stopover was spontaneous and I am glad we did stop here, for the unique acoustic experience.

Our next stop is the air strip at Sholavaram. Sholavaram’s airstrip was used as a runway during the Second World War by the Royal British Air force for anti-submarine operations. The nondescript runway was later used as a race track for motor sport, till a new track was commissioned at Irungkattukkottai nearby. Now it has been closed for public and is being used by the Military. With a cursory glance from the road, we proceed to Tamaraipakkam check dam.

Built across the Kosasthalaiyar river, the huge laterite checkdam with weirs was constructed in 1868. It was extended later on and unfortunately, not a drop of water was to be seen in the dam. We see an abandoned PWD inspection bungalow dating back to 1915, the walls in good condition, but the tiled roof having given away. Careless garffitis deface the walls of the structure, which still boasts of large manicured shrubs along the entrances. I could very well imagine an engineer sitting on the verandah smoking his pipe, children playing around and a cool breeze wafting from the dam. The original plaque erected during opening of the dam lies on the dusty path, with the date inscribed, crying for attention. The automatic weirs must be a treat to watch, during the monsoons. Water from Korattalaiyar is stored here and diverted via Sholavaram and into the Red hills reservoir.

Our next stop is Tirukallil. The temple and deity of the Tirukallil temple Sivanantheswarar, have found mention in the Devaram verses sung by Thirugnanasambandar, the Saivite Saint. Prayers in this temple bring fame and peace says his poem. The small tank on front of the temple- the Nandi Theertham is kept well fenced. As we enter the temple, the priest calls us out and performs aarti. I note tiny letters adorning the ceiling of the sanctum sanctorum which is in a queer hexagonal shape, now white washed with total disregard for whatever inscriptions remain etched there. As we roam around the temple, we strain and decipher successfully the name Kopperukesari Vikrama Chola (dating back to probably 12^th century), beneath the old blue fading paint. There is another Pandiya inscription too, which we are unable to read, our necks and heads reeling from the strain. The practice of painting anything saffron and white in our temples is a bane. We do not pay attention to what is beneath the paint. Conserving what little inscriptions and thereby history we have left with us remains a distant dream for we are totally unaware of preserving our heritage.

We are almost exhausted by now, as the afternoon sun blazes on. We pull over at Siruvapuri, planning for a hasty lunch, but end up spending an hour chit-chatting about Jimmy Carter and democracy. Past one o clock, we drive towards our destination- Pulicat. Pazhaverkadu is a coastal town, much known for its 450 sq km salt-water lake and the migratory birds that scramble there for much needed water and breeding. A bird watcher’s paradise, its close proximity to Chennai- about 59 kilometers, makes it a great week end destination. It can also be reached by train- it is 20 kms by road from the nearest railway station, Ponneri. However, the history of the town is equally richer as its eco-tourism value.

Pulicat has been mentioned during the Chola period. The Thiruppalaivanam temple 6 kms away from Pulicat built by Rajendra Chola has inscriptions of Chola period (10^th century) mentioning the coastal town as Puliyur Kottam which in due course changed to Palliacatta and then to Pulicat. It came under the rule of Vijayanagara Kings during 14-17^th centuries. It was under the rule of Krishnadevaraya that the port was named Pazhaverkadu, the name that holds water even today. Interestingly, during 8^th Century, a group of Arabs who escaped from the monopoly of Caliphate escaped from Medina and settled down at Pulicat. The descendants still live in the town today, called the Labbai clan. The unique Arwi script of writing Tamil in Arabic script probably originated here. Quite a difficult form of writing that was not easy to decipher, the writings in Arwi were used for secret communications during our freedom struggle. People in parts of South Tamilnadu and Srilanka still use this script for religious writings. From the Cholas, Vijayanagar Kings, Portuguese, the town moved into the hands of the Dutch, during whose period it was a Fort in all its glory and then to the British, who treated it as their tourism spot. Pulicat was also home to the famed Palayacot lungies from which originated the famed Madras Checks.

The dusty lane that branches off from the main bazaar of the town leads us directly to the Dutch Cemetery at Kottaikuppam. The main gate is locked and as we look for clues, two men approach us from the nearby tea-shop. As we explain that we are looking for the cemeteries, one of them dangles the keys and opens up the gates for us. He remained our guide throughout the trip and was really proud to show us around the town. The gates lead to a semi-circular arch that has two skeletons inscribed on the sides. On the left is a Dutch verse and to the right is an inscription dated 1656. The impressive new cemetery is about 300 years old and is at the south west corner of the now extinct Geldria Fort. About 77 of them line up, in varying sizes and shapes with distinct inscriptions in Dutch, Portuguese and English. The oldest of them probably dates back to 1646 and the latest one to 1777. Two obelisks stand majestically and three more arched cemeteries add up to the skyline. The inscriptions are complete with names of the buried ones, their age, the places where they were from and the place and date when they died. It is interesting to find places like Rotterdam, Nagapattinam, Machilipatnam, Colombo and obviously Palliacatta mentioned in the tombstones. The caretaker shows us a small opening in one of the cemeteries, a secret underground tunnel that is said to lead to the Fort opposite the cemetery. The map of Fort Geldria is embossed on one of the tombstones!

Opposite to the cemetery is a vast wasteland, sluggish with backwaters, strewn with old brick walls, which the locals say is the old fort. Digging the place has been impossible as the underground water immediately gushes out, when dug. The next place of visit was the most interesting part of the tour for me- the Our Lady of Joys Church in Kottaikuppam. Touted as the first parish of the Roman Catholic Church on the Coromandel Coast, I am too eager to see the remnants of the old church. The massive concrete monstrosity before me almost stings my eye, as I race inside the church looking for any non-descript detail left by the church authorities during demolition of the old church. With disregard for the value of the old structure originally built by the Portuguese in 1515, the new structure is two-tiered, with no sign of the beautiful Gothic structure that once stood at the place. The inscription describing the church dating back to 1515 is also nowhere to be found. If found, that could prove this is the oldest church on the Coromandel Coast, built a year before the Luz Church at Chennai in 1516.

Haggard and weary, we move to our next stop, the St. Antony’s Church, said to be built in the year 1717. The small but neatly painted church still maintains its Renaissance style, with tiled roof, high ceilings, windows housed in semi-circular arches and large wooden doors. There is a small TV room nearby, a period attraction when village panchayats were provided with a television for the public to watch.

From here, we ogle at the large pottery jars placed at the courtyards of almost all the houses that hold drinking water and reach the lake shores. From here, we board the fishing boat, a ride that cost us Rs.1000, into the lake and from there to the sea. About 96% of the lagoon falls under Andhra Pradesh and the lagoon used to naturally open out into the sea. Due to heavy silt, now the lagoon mouth is dug manually, enabling it to join the sea. The Buckingham canal is part of the lagoon on the west and three rivers- the Arani, Kalangi and Swarnamukhi drain into the lagoon. Once rich with mangrove forests, now devoid of all greenery, the boat ride is all sweaty and salty on a humid February afternoon. With no shade or cover, I take umbrage beneath my dupatta. There are old abandoned piers that show the date as 1943 as the boat moves further into the lagoon. Slowly, the breeze ruffles our hair and birds start circling us. Sea-gulls, cormorants, storks, egrets, river terns…the colonies of birds attract us and as we arrive at a tiny islet where the boatman announces we can get off for a break, we jump out of the boat in awe. 

The small islet is a beauty, the shores lined up with conches and shells of various shapes and colors. It is a rainbow of colors on white sand and the group gets all playful, clicking groupies, collecting shells, drawing on sand and gliding in the waters. The boat man has a tough time cajoling the kids-turned-history-buffs to the boat and the travel back is equally fascinating as we bounce in the water disturbed by an armada of fishing boats venturing out into the sea for fishing. The light house at a distance keeps attracting us, its dark blue and white hues standing in tall pride. The new light house was built in 1985 and was primarily built to warn of the shoals existing 4 NM off the coast. It is separated from the town by a small channel. Our plea to get closer to the light house is warded off by the boat man who claims the sand bar is very shallow- about 30-40 cms and is very dangerous to get close to the shore. Though disappointed, we agree to his warning and complete the boat ride.

A coffee and fifteen minutes later, we find ourselves inside the Chinna Masudhi (Small Mosque). This mosque was built in 1708 as per the inscription just above the entrance arch and its star attractions are an old 19^th century adhaan towerfrom which the Muzzein sang his prayer calls and a sun dial belonging to the year 1914. The marking and inscription in the sun dial are in Persian script that reads the name of the installer as Haji Mohammed Hussain Saheb of Muthialpet, Madras. We try to decipher the language of the script and fail miserably and I resign myself to watch a game of marbles being played by little boys.

We move to a dilapidated old temple next, called the Adhinarayana Perumal Temple. The temple probably dates back to either Vijayanagar period or to the late Cholas. There is an inscription in Telugu on the ceiling of the Thayar Sannidhi (sanctum mandap of the Goddess) that mentions about the period of Vijayanagar King Balavandakulu. The Dwajasthamba, sacrificial pillar and Garuda Sannidhi stand in shambles and so is the main temple. The outer Artha Mandapam is all that we can see and we are spell bound by the intricate carvings on the supporting beams. Scenes from the Ramayana adorn the entire beam in all four sides, right from Ram’s Pattabishekam (ascension to throne) to his vanvaas, the enticing of Sita by the deer Mareecha, Sita in Ashokvan, Hanuman meeting Sita, the war between Ram and Ravan in clear detail, the killing of Ravan, Sita entering the pyre, Lava-Kush and finally the happy re-union of the family. We stand mesmerized by the perfection of the tiny figurines on the beams and tread past the shrubbery into the Thayar Sanctum. This resembles a mini Angkor Wat- the wilderness and trees eating into the space of the Mandap, beautifully carved with mermaid (Jash Kanya), Ram with bow, dancing girls, monkey with jackfruit, Garuda and many many more figurines.

The temple was built with red laterite which is endemic to Konkan coast and it is a surprise to find almost all temples of this area built using it. A haphazard effort had been made by HR&CE department to restore the temple using concrete and cement, which was quashed by the Court on petition by concerned citizens. The temple is under the danger of falling down anytime soon, the rank vegetation eating away its insides. Immediate interference by ASI would be of much help to save this temple.

We move to the last stop of our trip – the Samayeswarar temple. Said to be built as the same period of Adhinarayana Temple, this Siva temple is also in a bad shape. The main entrance has trees crisscrossing the structure and it looks as if it is the vegetation that is holding together the main entrance. We enter the temple through another gate at the side, looking distraught at the ‘restored’ new temple. Thankfully the outer hall of the temple remains undisturbed, with pillars that have carvings like the Narasimma emerging from inside the pillar, money with jackfruit, a monkey hanging upside down on the pillar, Kannappa Nayanar and many more. Here too the supporting beams have tiny figurines carved and I am elated to spot a cow ringing a bell- the story of Manu Needhi Chola and the cow that came looking for justice to him. The various vahanas of the Gods lie in total abandon at the mandap and as we walk around the temple, to our left is a stepped well. Made of bricks and lime mortar, the circular well has an adjoining podium from which descend a flight of stairs into a tunnel, giving closer access to the water below. This is unique to the temple, as we have not seen this kind of arrangement elsewhere in Tamil temples. Tired, yet blissful of the satisfactory trip, we head back home.

The town of Pulicat has a lot to offer other than the usual boat ride and fish fry. It has centuries of history waiting by the sands, for the enthusiastic travelers in us to discover. A natural harbor, the town celebrates annual Pulicat Day every year, few days next to the World Wetlands Day, to stress the need for saving the delicate Pulicat lagoon. The lagoon and its ecosystem are under serious threat due to pollution and sedimentation. The moisture of the lake is not sufficient to attract the rain clouds and there has been severe damage to the climatic balance. What is needed on the conservation of the ecological front is increased public awareness and Governmental support. Conservation and protection of the historical sites is also imperative, if at all we have to pass on our rich legacy and heritage to our children.